Harry Potter and the Hidden Assasain
by Ruinwen
Summary: Harry arrives at The Burrow to find the house deserted and one of the family lying dead on the floor. Who is it? You'll have to read it, won't you! And what's up with Ginny?
1. Default Chapter

Hi all. I'm back. I'm soooo sorry I haven't uploaded for so long but I've had exams and things. Anyway! Harry Potter! I'm still not sure if this is funny or serious, but read it anyway. Oh yeah. Disclaimer. Harry Potter not mine, nothing invented by rowling mine (unfortunately) and blah blah blah.  
Harry Potter and the Hidden Assassin  
  
Harry sighed to himself as he gazed out of the window of no. 4, Privet Drive. It was a gloomy night, the clouds looming ominously overhead, promising thunder. He peered out into the darkness, straining his eyes to their limit, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hedwig returning, but there was no sign of her.  
  
It had not been an enjoyable birthday. Dudley had brought his friend Pierce round for the day, and, as usual, they had engaged in the entertaining sport of Harry Bashing. However Harry, finding that over his fifth year at Hogwarts he had grown almost three inches and was now taller than Pierce and nearly as tall as Dudley, had, for the first time, retaliated and given Pierce a bleeding nose. He smiled to himself as he recalled Ron's lessons in punching people ("Just hit'em straight, Harry. If they're bigger than you, run). Uncle Vernon, furious, had confined Harry to his room and confiscated all his writing equipment - in one way it had been amusing to watch him crawling around on the floor, trying to find every single pencil in the room, but it also meant that he had absolutely no way of communicating with - well, with anyone at all. What was the use of an owl if you couldn't send anyone letters? Harry sighed and shut his window. Hedwig would not return that night.  
  
Suddenly a soft object hurtled into the glass. Harry, hoping that it was Hedwig, padded over to the window, opened it, and caught the unconscious Errol before he fell off the sill. He laid the faintly breathing owl on the bed and peeled the sodden envelope from his leg.  
  
Hoping it was a letter from Ron, he opened the envelope. Instead he found a sodden mass of gunge and a piece of paper that had probably been intended as a note, but had been washed completely free of ink. It was evidently raining wherever Ron lived.  
  
Harry sighed and put the envelope on his radiator to dry. Whatever the gunk was supposed to be might reveal itself when it was dry. Meanwhile he reverted to banging his cupboard door to annoy Dudley, who was trying to sleep in the next room.  
  
And end. First chapter. Second chapter underway. Please review!! 


	2. Arrival at the Burrow

Disclaimer - as before. Go back to the last chapter, you lazy lout. Oh, and all you Charlie (weasly) fans, DON'T READ THIS CHAPTER! AND IF YOU DO, HAVE A BOX OF TISSUES READY! (I cried writing it)  
  
The next morning Harry was swiftly awoken by Aunt Petunia opening the catflap and shoving what looked like the remains of Dudley's breakfast onto the floor. Due to Dudley's appetite, all that was left was two burnt toast crusts. Harry thanked fate that he had had the foresight to lay in supplies as soon as Pierce had started to gush blood from his oversized nose.  
  
He ignored the toast crusts, delved under his bed and brought out a slightly staling chocolate cake, which he began to eat. He then walked over to the radiator, picked up the now dry envelope, opened it and looked inside.  
  
"Floo powder!"  
  
Harry's mind was buzzing with possibilities. Trust Ron to send him floo powder when it was about as easy to access a fire as it was to shave Snape's armpits while he was asleep. (Incidentally Fred and George had already tried this. They were still sprouting onions from their ears when he last saw them.)  
  
Harry's mind was racing. Could you use floo powder in any fire, or did it have to be in a grate? Starting a fire in his own room would be easy even without magic, but Harry was pretty sure it actually had to be in a fireplace of some kind. Was the Dursley's fireplace still connected to the Floo network? It had been at the end of last year.but had the ministry disconnected it yet? It was worth a try, he supposed. He quickly pulled his trunk out from under his bed, rummaged inside and pulled out the Invisibility cloak that had been his father's. Now to get out of his room.  
  
He pulled the cloak over his head, grabbed the envelope of Floo Powder and crept over to the window. He had never climbed out before, but it looked vaguely possible.It was worth a try.  
  
Ten minutes later Harry lay gasping in the flowerbed. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea. However he was down, and the Dursley's hadn't noticed, which was the desired effect of his near - suicide, so there was a bright side to the fact that he had just fallen twenty feet onto his back and was finding it decidedly hard to breathe.  
  
He peeled himself off the floor, made his way over to the front door and knocked officiously. He heard hurried voices inside "Who's that, calling at this time of day? Some people have no consideration!" and footsteps. Then Aunt Petunia flung wide the door, a suspicious look in her rat like eyes. Harry ran a little way down the drive, making sure Aunt petunia heard the footsteps. Aunt petunia hobbled out of the door shouting about vagabonds and today's youth. Meanwhile Harry nipped silently in through the door and into the living room.  
  
Due to - er - events last year, the fireplace was still uncovered. Harry grinned to himself as he remembered what had happened - he, Ron and the Weasly twins had decided, in a drunken stupor, that it was absolutely imperative that they return to the Dursley's house and steal Dudley's wrestling posters for er..scientific research (mwahahahahahahahhahahhahahahaaha). They had used floo powder and hurtled, all at once, through the fireplace and into the middle of Dudley's birthday party. Needless to say the results were not pretty.  
  
Harry quickly fetched his trunk, stepped into the fireplace, dropped the floo powder and said, as quietly as he could, "The Burrow!"  
  
Harry hurtled through the floo network, fireplaces shooting past. Finally he slid out of the grate into the Weasley's living room, and the moment he did, he knew that something was very, very wrong indeed. There was a tightness around the house, a silence, a reeking odour of death.  
  
Slowly, Harry walked over to the door. Knowing what he would find, he stepped out, walked a little way, feeling all the time the darkness emanating from the house, turned round and confronted the leering face of the Dark Mark.  
  
Shaking, Harry sank down on his knees in front of the house. No, he thought. No. This cannot be happening. But deep inside, the reality was there; the devastating skull hovered over the house.  
  
Suddenly, a red flower of rage burst open inside Harry. Images flashed in his mind; Ron, poised halfway over the railing at the Quidditch World Cup, Ginny, lying pale-faced at the feet of Salazar Slytherin, Fred and George, reeling drunkenly round the common room after beating Slytherin at Quidditch last year, Bill and Charlie, dueling tables high above the Weasley's lawn, Mrs Weasley, running towards them in her slippers, a Daily Prophet slipping from her hand, Mr Weasley feeding Amos Diggory toast.. The memories came flooding back like an unstoppable tidal wave of grief. Harry jumped up and pelted as fast as he could towards the house that once contained the closet thing he had ever had to a family.  
  
(A/N- Don't worry, the Weasley's aren't all dead... You seriously think I'd kill off the twins? Or Ron?) Harry ran up the stairs, his wand out, ready to take his anger out on whoever he might find. He ran into each bedroom, finding each one deserted, his dread growing with each empty room, until he reached the top floor landing where he stopped in his tracks, his anger turned in an instant to grief, and slumped against the door, unable to take in what his eyes were seeing.  
  
Lying slumped on the floor, his wand rolled out of his motionless fingers, his eyes staring open and glazed, lay Charlie. And behind him, cowering in a terror stricken heap, lay Ginny.  
  
There you go! Next chap up as soon as poss. 


End file.
